Page 5

CHAPTER

FOUR

AMBER

Nella wakes us up early in the morning, and I’m relieved when I roll over and see Ford looks well-rested. I hate that my health issues are causing him stress. Which I realize sounds ridiculous, since they are causing me stress. But Ford has enough on his plate, what with being the leader of one of the top teams in the NHL.

While Ford excuses himself to cook breakfast, I nurse Nella. I spend extra time soaking up our moments while nursing, knowing I won’t be able to nurse for several days before and after my procedure because of the medications.

When I come down the steps holding my daughter, I can hear the sizzle of bacon and the clanging of pans. It smells delicious.

As we come into the kitchen, Ford is too distracted to notice us. He turns the bacon and pancakes with a spatula, splattering some pancake batter on himself in the process. I know he hates being messy, so I’m expecting him to grab a towel and wipe up the mess, but instead, he puts the spatula down, reaches behind his head, and tugs the white tee off over his head. He turns and tosses it on the counter and continues cooking.

Perhaps it’s because I was with Theo for so long, and that’s why I’ve forced myself not to notice just how attractive my best friend is. But now Theo isn’t in the picture, and apparently, there’s nothing stopping me from ogling Ford’s pristine form guilt-free.

Goodness. Not only has he aged well, but I think he’s gained several pounds of muscle since last I saw him. His perpetually tanned skin is taut and smooth everywhere, with just a smattering of dark hair across his chest, then picking up again right above his belly button and trailing down…I shake my head, ending that thought immediately.

His honed muscles ripple and pulse as he flips the pancakes and moves around the kitchen. His abs flex when he reaches for something in the cabinet near the stove.

My mouth goes dry as I study him, wondering how someone can possibly be this fit. I guess it’s literally his job, but still, I feel suddenly self-conscious. Ford isn’t vain, but I wonder if he’s noticed how I’ve changed in the past year. A few more wrinkles, a few more pounds…and not of muscle. The stretch marks that make my once-flat stomach now look like a tiger mauled it. Thankfully he can’t see my belly.

Nella coos, drawing Ford’s attention. His head whips over to look at us and the most stunning smile stretches across his face. And there’s that chin dimple again.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, willing these thoughts away. Making things awkward between myself and the most important person in my life—besides Nella—is not on my list of things to do. Ever.

I don’t even know what’s gotten into me today. I’ve always been able to recognize Ford’s attractiveness, without being attracted to him .

Damn these post-partum hormones.

“Good morning, girls,” he says before turning back to the bacon and pancakes.

I swallow, trying to dampen my dry throat. “Good morning. It smells great.”

Nella coos again and I look down to see her staring up at me. Her fine, red hair is wild around her face, and her green eyes are shining. She’s always happiest in the morning.

Ford finishes up and makes two plates. The way he arranges the pancake stacks is so precise, like he used a level. The man could make food for magazines. Or be one of those guys on TikTok who makes sexy cooking videos.

I follow him to the long dining table and sit down. He places a plate in front of me and I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of me. “You know, I’m just going to stuff these pancakes in my face. You didn’t have to arrange them so neatly.”

He shoots me a shy grin. “I don’t even think about it. It just happens.”

“I wish I could have just an ounce of your tidiness,” I admit before cutting off a section of pancakes and popping it into my mouth.

Nella fusses and Ford studies her. “Do you want me to hold her while you eat?”

I study his face, looking for signs of apprehension, but I only find genuine helpfulness. “Sure.” Gently, I hand him Nella.

She stares at him as he fumbles to get the right hold on her. I notice that his stomach doesn’t even bunch when he sits down. The rows of abdominal muscles just do this fascinating stacking thing.

He props Nella up on his shoulder, and she snuggles in there, dipping her tongue out and drooling on his skin. He laughs. “Whoops, I forgot to go get a clean shirt.”

Nella licks his skin, not even knowing what she’s doing, probably hoping to find milk.

He laughs again and I join him. Babies are so unhinged.

I start eating quickly so I can take Nella back and let Ford eat.

Ford clears his throat, his deep voice low when he asks, “So, not to be annoying, but what exactly can we do this weekend?”

I snort a laugh, but his stony expression doesn’t budge. “As long as I’m not running a marathon or giving birth, I’ll be fine. Try not to worry, please? It’s been forever since I got to hang out with you, and I don’t want the whole weekend to be ruined.”

With a resigned sigh, he nods.

After eating breakfast and getting dressed, Ford takes us to a local shopping area in Alexandria. He only has the morning with us before he has to head to a team photo shoot for the afternoon, but Nella and I are going to tag along and watch.

The area we’re in is newer, but the builders obviously worked hard to make everything match the historical part of town. The buildings are white and fresh, with gold sconces and brick accents. The sidewalks are red brick, distressed so they don’t look new. The shopping center is quaint, but it also feels fancy. It’s adorable. Every shop has its own entrance opening onto the brick path, everything from restaurants to clothing boutiques to salons. One shop, in particular, that catches my eye. It’s a salon called Luxurious Lather, and it stands out amongst the other establishments, with black details instead of gold and a blush pink rug out front. I stop in front of the large windows and glance inside, noting the marble counter tops, huge floor-length mirrors in front of each station, and blush pink salon chairs. There’s even a black velvet couch in the center of the stations where clients can wait. It’s the prettiest salon I’ve ever seen. The kind of place I always dreamt of working but ended up in a dumpy little salon in Ohio instead.

Nella fusses from the baby carrier, and I sigh. She prefers to be moving and is probably mad I stopped for so long.

“I get my hair cut there,” Ford says. “The stylist I go to doesn’t know who I am. It’s refreshing.”

I chuckle. “Ahhh, or do you just go here because they have the hottest stylists?”

“Well, I always go to a guy named Peter. So, no, that’s not the reason.”

I burst out laughing. “Peter isn’t a hockey fan?”

“If he is, he’s never said anything.”

Looking over my shoulder, I glance longingly at the chic salon once more. “I’d love to work at a place like that. It’s so pretty.”

“Why don’t you?” he asks, looking straight ahead as we walk.

“I already have a solid clientele built up where I work. Our prices are lower than the fancier salons, so if I switched, not many of them would follow me.”

He nods. “You should move here. I could send you clients.”

“Ford.” I huff out a laugh. “I can’t just move to D.C.”

He stops walking and looks at me. “Why not? What’s keeping you in Ohio?” His deep brown eyes bore into mine, and when he makes this much eye contact, I know he’s serious. “If you’re closer, I can help you with Nella.”

It warms my heart that he’s thought about this, and if I’m honest, there’s nothing besides my clients keeping me in Ohio anymore. But starting over when this year has already brought so much change feels daunting.

“You travel all the time. I’d rarely see you. And I don’t want to be a burden, I don’t want you to feel like you have to help me.” I take a few strides forward, the movement giving me something to focus on besides Ford’s intense gaze.

He catches up with one long stride. “If I needed help, would you feel burdened by me?”

I tilt up my head, leveling him with a look that says I know where you’re going with this.

He raises his eyebrows and shoots me a cocky smirk, knowing he made his point.

“And what about your recovery?” he says, lowering his voice. “Who’s going to help you while you’re healing?”

I pause, scrambling to give him a solid answer. Ford won’t be content with just any made-up answer, but that’s all I have to give him. Because the only option I have is to hire help, which is more money that I don’t have. Not to mention the days of work I’ll miss for the procedure and recovery. “I’m not 100% sure I need the procedure, and if I do, the downtime is nothing. I’ll hire help if I need it.”

One of his dark—but perfectly groomed—eyebrows shoots up. “Won’t that be expensive?”

I release a sigh that turns into a groan. “I’m an adult, Ford! Let me figure it out.” I know my annoyance is misplaced and he’s just trying to help. But it sucks being the needy one here. Ford can try to reverse our roles in theory, like he’s the one who needs help, only to make me see his point. But the fact is, he doesn’t need help. He never does. He’s stupidly successful and I hate asking him for things. I suppose it’s my pride getting in the way, but what do I have left if not my pride?